


Forever and Far Away

by WoodeSeren



Category: The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Awesome Frigga, Brother Feels, Forgiveness, Gen, Loki Angst, Loki Has Issues, Odin's A+ Parenting, Sorry Not Sorry, Thor Is Not Stupid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-09
Updated: 2013-06-09
Packaged: 2017-12-14 11:32:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/836429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WoodeSeren/pseuds/WoodeSeren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki makes a different choice. When he begins to doubt his own faltering reality, he sends another to watch over his brother. There is more than one way to fall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forever and Far Away

**Author's Note:**

> There is one small mention at the end of this work that may be triggering to some readers. It refers to what Loki's intentions may have been when he let himself fall at the end of Thor.

Forever and Far Away

I. 

In the stillness Loki could hear his thoughts as clearly as though they were spoken aloud. He knew the stillness and quiet that were his familiars. Loneliness had been his constant companion for decades but this was something different. His thoughts spun and twisted as they were formed and he felt as though he belonged to another world, the shadow world. They were more real than the words he spoke aloud. He felt very small, swallowed by the golden throne he sat upon and dwarfed by the madness that danced in his head. 

“We are finished.” His words, directed at the Three sounded harsher than he intended, laced with long-festering irritation and weariness. He could see mutiny in their eyes as they backed out of the room and Loki wondered how long it had been since he considered them friends. In years past he had tried to find ways to prove he was more than just the jealous second prince and always come up short. Finally he had given up. As he watched their shadows retreat he wished he had tried harder to find some small thing that would have united them. When he spoke again it was strange, as though prompted by an unknown force. 

“Lady Sif…” he spoke softer, lacking the will to keep the venom in his voice. “Please remain a moment longer.” 

She paused where she stood, disguising her confusion with a sharp glance at her friends before returning to the foot of Odin’s elaborate throne. “Yes my king.” Her voice was lead. 

Loki shook his head, at her or himself neither could tell. He had once imagined that being addressed so would make him feel powerful but instead it made him feel alone. “There isn’t any need for that.” He paused, searching his memories for words of reason amidst the dark machinations in his head. “I wish for you to go to Midgard and look after Thor.” He raised his hand as her eyes widened in surprise. “But I wish for your presence to remain a secret. I do not want to deprive him of whatever my…” Loki grimaced, “The Allfather wanted him to learn. But…” his voice broke off as his gaze turned toward the ground, “I worry for my brother.” 

When he looked up again Sif was surveying him as though he was an entirely different person. She searched his face for the lie but found none. After a long moment she spoke. “I will go to Heimdell at once.”

Loki nodded gratefully, placing a hand against his pounding forehead. _Spinning, spinning, spinning_. “Speak to your friends first. They will be wanting to know where you have gone.” 

She nodded before departing, her voice almost hiding her distrust. “As you wish.” 

When she had gone Loki laid down his father’s spear and went to see his mother. 

He found her seated by Odin who slept as though his younger son’s outburst had never happened. Loki slumped into the opposite chair with the weariness of an old man. Frigga set down her loom as he entered but waited for him to speak. 

“I have sent Lady Sift to watch over Thor.” 

“Loki.” Her voice was gentle. 

He struggled with his words, reluctant to admit his weakness. “I do not trust myself. I would see he is not harmed.” Loki did not need to say who he feared would harm his brother. “I can’t make out the truth from the lie anymore.” 

Frigga reached across the bed for her youngest’s hand. “There is only one truth that matters my son. You are ours and we love you.” 

Loki did not answer but he did not remove his hand from her grasp. 

... 

The days crept by slowly and Loki locked away his madness with responsibility. If he only thought of one thing, a crop dispute or petty crime, it was easier to ignore his own thoughts (thoughts that whispered betrayal and demanded that he kill the monster inside him, that he could do this only if he killed all the monsters, _left alone to die_ ). When they threatened to overwhelm him he sat with his mother for hours at a time while she threaded the future with gentle hands. 

Sometimes he went to visit Heimdell to hear how his brother fared. His anger and hurt faded to regret as the gatekeeper spoke of his brother’s activities on that other realm. Thor had found companions and was beginning to see the world as more than just a warrior. To his credit, the gatekeeper did not question Loki about what had happened in the vault though Loki knew where his suspicion lay. He longed for nothing more than for his father to awaken and give him the answers he desperately sought. 

... 

 

Odin had been asleep for nearly a month when Heimdell sent for Loki. The guard found him sitting with his sleeping king. Bowing quickly to the queen and temporary-king he spoke hurriedly. “My king. I have word from Heimdell. Frost Giants have attached your brother on Midgard.” 

For the smallest fraction of a second the world stood still. Loki was stunned. He couldn’t comprehend how this had come to be and the terrible reality of it stained his skin worse than any blue ever could. Thor was on Midgard without power and without help. He was the one who had shown Thor’s enemies the paths between worlds. His brother would die and no lie could change this wrong to right. _Left alone to die._ His mother shook his shoulder gently.

“Loki?” He stood hurriedly, pulling the heavy cape from his shoulders as he turned to his mother. _Your fault. Your fault. Your fault. _“I must go.” 

She nodded knowingly as he handed her his father’s spear. The words that followed were like those of a child confessing a small sin. “The vault was supposed to be empty.” 

She took his hand. “I know.” 

He squeezed her hand and turned to the guard. “Send word to the warriors and tell them to follow.” The guard nodded quickly and hurried from the room. Loki focused on the sound of his footsteps, _lies,_ step, _unwanted,_ step, _relic,_ step. 

The maddened whirling in his head intensified as he hurried toward the observatory. Guilt and hurt no longer seemed distinguishable from each other and he struggled to keep his thoughts directed towards his brother who even now could be dying or dead because of him. Loki valued his intelligence more than any other trait and to let his own miscalculations write the outcome of this scene was unforgivable. If what his mother said was truth then this was truth also. 

All his life Thor had been better. He was stronger, brighter and more akin to what a son of Asgard ought to be. He was the sun and Loki a small moon or lesser star orbiting somewhere in the distance. Loki had never been anything like Thor but he loved his brother, even when he struggled and agonized over Asgard’s rejection of all that he was. Even now, after lies had turned to truth he loved Thor, Frigga, and even Odin, though his love was stained with hurt. His madness could not mask the fact that if he allowed Thor to come to harm he would never, in all his centuries of life, forgive himself. 

The gatekeeper nodded upon his arrival but Loki spoke before the lie had the chance to form on his tongue. _It wasn’t my fault. I didn’t mean it to go so far. We were never supposed to go where we did._ “They followed the path I showed them. Someone must have learned to change its direction.” He found himself unable to say more, as if admitting the truth caused him physical pain. “Please send the others after me when they arrive.” The gatekeeper did not speak but nodded as the would-be-king vanished in a flash of light. 

The first thing Loki noticed about Midgard was how hot it was, and how bright. A barren dessert stretched out around him for miles save for a settlement in the distance. He found the emptiness strangely calming, as if the nothing swallowed the chaos that raged inside him. Trusting his instincts he reached his hand toward the branches of the world tree and reappeared on a shaded street. 

He was immediately aware of the change in the air. It smelled heavy of blood and a quick turn of his head revealed the source. Sif stood between two humans and a ruin of dead Jotun and she was covered in a sick mess of blood and burns. Her shield arm was blackened and she struggled to stand as another group of giants advanced upon her. It was only then Loki realized how unprepared he was. Having come without more than a few hidden daggers he would have to rely on his magic to help her, magic that was far from it’s full strength from the weeks he had spent battling his own mind. 

“Sif!” He called out hurriedly, rushing toward her and pulling a knife from a hidden place in his sleeve. She turned toward him as he threw the knife. It struck the monster’s neck and the creature fell with an angry thud. Those few second were all Sif needed to recover herself for another bout and with terrible grace she struck down another two as Loki let a second and third dagger fly. 

“Loki!” 

Loki turned toward the sound of his name and stopped. With terrible surprise he realized that what he had thought to be a human man was his brother. Thor was dressed in strange Midgardian clothing and covered in dust and blood but he smiled broadly. “I am glad to see you brother.”

The woman beside he stirred at those words, her eyes wide in confusion. “Brother?” 

Loki smiled weakly at Thor before Sif’s cry brought him back to the present. She staggered on her feet as a giant sliced across her middle. Loki shouted and with a burst of magic the giant turned to dust. 

He made his way quickly to Sif’s side as she slumped to the ground. All was quiet and no fallen enemy stirred. Loki cast a hurried look toward his brother who was helping the young Earth woman to her feet before turning back to the injured Sif. “You fought well Lady Sif.” He spoke gently as he examined the deep wound with rising concern; for once grateful she was too exhausted to protest. 

“Not well enough it seems.” Her voice caught in her throat and came from far away. “Make sure I am given a warriors burial.” She tried to laugh but coughed instead, “Else I will return from Valhalla to bring justice upon you.”

Loki shook his head. “They will sing songs about this day.” 

Thor’s pained face swam in the outside of Loki’s vision. “Can you help her?” 

Given the choice Loki would have waited until he could return Sif to the care of healers but the ashen gray of her face told him that there wasn’t time. Sif would reach the next life before she saw the golden halls of Asgard again. With great effort he drew on his own store of magic and let it dance at his fingertips. _Why should you save her? She has only ever driven Thor away from you. You don’t owe any of them anything._ Focusing on the ruin of flesh and blood that was his brother’s closest companion and ignoring his own traitorous thoughts he poured all he could into the mortal wound. He held onto Sif’s life and willed bone and tissue to mend. 

Though some would say that Loki’s confidence in his skills was a fault, Loki would never claim to be especially skilled in healing. The sort of magic he was best at, illusion and combat drew magic from the air as easily as drawing a breath. Healing required energy from within. It was the kind of thing that Eir who loved all with an open and kind heart was best at. Loki, who had spent his entire life drawing lines that cut himself away from others, had little natural affinity for such selfless giving. Still, he clung to Sif’s life as though his own was slipping away. _Spinning. Spinning. Spinning._ So focused was Loki on his magic that he didn’t hear the giant stir until it was too late. 

Time moved in slow motion. Loki heard his brother cry out a name he didn’t know and turned in time to see Thor move in front of his and Sif’s grounded forms, arms outstretched protectively. The giants frozen blade cut him across the chest with frightening ease. Loki’s vision blurred as Thor fell to the ground, the woman’s screaming echoing across the desert. The Jotun raised its arm again and brought it down, intent to finish it’s wicked work. 

Loki’s need made him swift and without another weapon he had only one choice. Shifting into motion, he caught the giant’s arm in his own hand as Thor feebly tried to rise. Loki ignored the cold sensation that crawled up his arm and narrowed his eyes _by now probably scarlet_ on the being who had so grievously wounded his brother. 

The giant snarled. “What trickery is this?” Loki did not answer but grimaced as he struggled under the weight of the larger being. His muscles screamed in protest under the unaccustomed weight and he felt himself slip. The Jotun, sensing its advantage grabbed Loki by the wrist and raised him off the ground. Grinning wickedly he pulled the silver blade from his own neck _no no no _and examined the intricate designs. Without word or warning he thrust the blade into Loki’s chest, releasing his wrist and dropping him carelessly to the ground. Certain of his victory he turned back to the still struggling Thor. 

Loki cried out as he hit the ground, more from anger at his own stupidity than any pain. Physical pain was beyond him now, nothing compared to the agony that had made itself a home in his own head. Still, his chest burned as he pulled his own blade from where it was nestled between flesh and bone. With fresh horror he saw that while his hands had returned to their Aesir pale they were covered with his own red blood _monsters bleed red just the same as gods?_ He made an effort to rise but with panic realized that his limbs would not obey him. He tried to gather his magic but felt only faint sparks, exhausted by the toll of healing Sif and his own mortal wound. 

The monster raised his weapon again as Loki struggled to stand. _Your fault._ _ Your fault. Your fault. _The monster was going to kill Sif and Thor and it was entirely his fault. He struggled and fell again. They had to live and return to the lives he had so carelessly damaged in his own miscalculations. He saw clearly all the paths he should have taken and could not comprehend how he had allowed himself to be led to this place. Loki had told himself many lies throughout the long years of his life but no lie could disguise this truth, the trick that finally went to far. Terror blossomed at the edges of his vision as he recognized his own helplessness. There was nothing he could do. Loki shut his eyes in a final admittance of despair and the monster fell. _I’m so sorry._

He had enough presence of mind left to see Sif slump to the ground, her spear slipping from her grasp to rest beside her slain foe. With great effort Loki rolled to his side to face his brother. When he spoke his voice came from a time long past. “I am sorry. This is my fault.” 

“No brother.” As injured as he was, Thor was determined to be the elder brother he felt he should have always been. “The burden is mine.” 

Loki grimaced. “You still think me your brother?” He turned his head away. “You saw what I really am.” 

Thor reached his hand out to touch Loki’s shoulder. “You will always be my brother.” His words were firm despite his pain. “Nothing could ever change that.” 

Loki opened his mouth again but found his silver tongue silenced.

“Jane has gone for help.” Thor added distantly. “Brother… I am sorry for how I wronged you in the past. I should have been your defender.” He paused again and took a steadying breath. “I once admonished you to know your place and I was wrong. Your place is wherever you choose to be.” 

If Thor meant to say more it went unheard as the roar of the wind around them silenced his words. The earth shook and the sky darkened and for a moment Loki thought it was the warriors making their belated arrival. It was only when he felt the electricity in the air that Loki realized with desperate relief what was happening. He felt his brother lifted away from the ground as he danced in and out of consciousness. He heard new voices in the distance- the warriors come at last. 

Thoughts began to blend together _killallthemonstersyourfaultsorrysorrysorry_ and he thought of Sif and hoped she was all right. He hoped his father would awaken soon and he hoped that his mother would forgive his mistakes. Thoughts unraveled like old threads he chased through time and memory. Once there was a child left to die in the cold, saved by a warrior king. The child was loved but one day he began to doubt that love. Ragnarok is chaos and chaos is only mischief gone too far. He feels himself lifted by a force stronger than himself and he is relieved that the story is finally over. _You were always loved._ The world dissolved in blinding light and Loki knew no more. 

...

It was dim when Loki opened his eyes. Disoriented, he clutched the heavy coverings laid atop him and realized that he was lying in his own chamber. A bone heavy weariness had set upon his body and he felt as though hehad been away from himself for a long time. He blinked, focusing on the space around him and turned his head to the side. 

Loki’s breath caught in his throat. The All Father sat slumped in a chair pulled close to the bed. For the first time in Loki’s life Odin looked old. He dozed in a posture that suggested he had not intended to fall asleep and Loki was struck with the knowledge that he was likely still recovering from the Odinsleep. 

Odin stirred in his seat and looked up at his wide-eyed son. Pulling himself into a more dignified posture he smiled gently. “Do I really look so old to eyes as young as yours?” 

“No All Father… I…” Loki stammered in protest and attempted to sit up but Odin’s strong hand on his shoulder stopped him.

“Rest Loki. You very nearly left us.”

“Thor and Sif?” He did not attempt to hide the fear in his voice. 

“Safe and well.” Odin answered. “Sif was lucky you were there.”

Loki squeezed his eyes shut. “It was my fault she was there in the first place.”

Odin was quiet for the smallest moment. “We all do things we regret with time and the advent of wisdom.” He did not remove his hands from Loki’s shoulder. “Your mother and I often wondered if we shouldn’t have sent you to study with those who would have better nurtured and appreciated your gifts, perhaps to mages on Vanaheimr. No matter how long we considered it we could not stand the thought of being parted from you.” Odin paused again, age and regret etched in the lines of his face. “I am sorry I did not tell you sooner. You are my son, no matter whose blood you carry or what you do.”

Loki shook his head. “If I could have chosen, even after everything, I would still want to be here.” 

Neither spoke and only the sound of Thor’s footsteps at the doorway broke the peaceful quiet. Odin rose from his chair and smiled at his son. “I will take my leave for now. Your mother has been fussing over the both of us for days but I will do my best to distract her for a while.” He reached his weathered hand down to touch Loki’s shoulder. “Rest well.” 

Thor crossed the room to his father’s recently vacated chair. Loki looked up apprehensively but Thor was quiet for a moment, waiting until their father’s footsteps faded before speaking. “I came to thank you.” 

To this Loki had no answer. “Thank me for what Thor? My attempts to help you failed, if it wasn’t for Sif…” 

Thor shook his head. “No. If it wasn’t for you we would both be dead.” 

Loki grimaced. “Thor, it was my fault you came to danger in the first place… I…”

“I know Loki.” Loki’s words froze on his lips. “I know you were the one to interrupt my coronation. Mother told me.” 

Loki was incredulous. “Then why are you thanking me? I could have killed you and nearly did. Thor, you should hate me!”

Thor shook his head again. “You think I would have done any better as king? You saw what I was Loki. I would not trade the lessons I learned on Midgard for anything.” He paused. “And you know that nothing you do could ever make me hate you. These things you have done, this madness you have battled, I should have been there to help you.” Thor looked ashamed. “And I wasn’t.”

Pale dawn was beginning to light the edges of the windows and Loki watched its progress as it chased away the shadow. Words came forth reluctantly, words he had held close and treasured as his final truth when he thought he was dying, words meant to be shared. “Do you remember at the end of the battle, after Sif had slain the last, when you told me that my place was wherever I chose to be?” 

Thor nodded. “Yes. Those words are true Loki, do not doubt me.” 

Loki shook his head. “I don’t. I know they are true.” 

“Then what is this about?” 

“My place _is_ at your side, as your advisor and companion.” He paused. “You are my brother but you are also my friend.” 

Thor smiled. “As mine is at yours. I am glad Loki. I do not think I could face the challenges ahead without your wisdom. There are many things that need to change, too long have we let lies and mistrust govern our diplomacy. Too long have we looked down on those who are different.”

The ghost of mirth danced in Loki’s eyes. “So you did learn something on Earth. Tell me about your lady.” 

They spoke together until Frigga, flush with concern ordered her eldest to leave Loki to rest. For the first time in many years Loki’s thoughts were quiet and he slept in peace. 

Once there was a child who was raised by those who loved him. He fell through time and space and memory. Their love sought him out but he could not see. 

II. 

He falls.

He falls through darkness, through lies sharp enough to cut, deceit and despair. He falls as the world falls away like broken glass and shatters, memories scattering across the universe like a star exploding. He falls through pain so complete his nerves split and his heart burns through his chest. He falls forever. He wishes for nothing but to die. 

He doesn’t stop falling when he hits the ground. He does what is asked of him because maybe he wants what the mad titan offers and even if he doesn’t, whatever comes after cannot be worse than the hurt that never stops. His skin blisters as the world turns to red but it is no worse than the emptiness in his soul. Even pain is better than nothing. 

Earth trembles in his grasp and her people falter. They are ants under his boot just as he is a cockroach under Thanos. Words come from places within himself that he never knew existed and his voice is clear though he falters inside. God of lies he may be, he speaks an unbreakable truth. There is no freedom in the universe, only heartbreak. 

When Earth’s Mightiest Heroes lay waste to his plans he is almost relieved. He is so tired he almost anticipates the sentence that is certain to come with what might be gladness. At least he will be free to rest, if nothing else. Free will has never led him to anything but harm and he has never been fast enough to run from himself. 

He wants to laugh when he is paraded through Asgard at the heels of his not-brother. It’s a solemn day, where he expected jeers he is met with silence. Loki wants the people to shout and sneer. His grimace hides behind the ridiculous gag as he passes lines of stone-eyed faces. He hates their pity and would trade it for hatred if he could. Hate he understands. He smiles and avoids his mother’s gaze when Odin strips him of his freedom and binds his magic. An eye for an eye.

More than anything he knows he cannot stay in Asgard forever. The white walls of his cell rise up and threaten to smother the slivers of sanity he has left and his subjugated magic quivers feebly in his chest like some doomed winged creature. Thor used to come daily and the sound of his pleas echoed hollowly against the white but even he has been absent for nearly a month. Loki suspects he finally tired of talking to walls. These developments are of little concern. If anything good has come of this it is the return of his patience. He can wait a century if that is what it takes. When the time comes he will reclaim what he has lost. What happens next he has not yet decided, either he will find a way to not need so desperately or make right on what he tried a lifetime ago. Either way, he will reject the world that so long ago rejected him. 

Someday he will stop falling. 

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for the ambiguous way the two parts are connected. I wanted to create a world where things could have turned out happy and then contrast it where things turned out not-so-nice. To me that is what is sad about these characters, different choices could have been made and things didn't have to turn out so badly. I leave it to the reader to decide which 'ending' is the real one in this story. Thank you for reading!


End file.
